


Strangers

by Urloth (CollyWobbleKiwi)



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Brother-Sister Relationship, Gen, Gosh I love writing about Cuivienen, Tatyarin politics and Minyar interference gunna feature, more like prelude to baby's first politics than actual politics, will be writing more of this later for sure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-21
Updated: 2014-03-21
Packaged: 2018-01-16 11:35:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1345999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CollyWobbleKiwi/pseuds/Urloth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short ficlet request from Tumblr for Paradifeloft: Miriel and Rumil and politics</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strangers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ParadifeLoft](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ParadifeLoft/gifts).



Their grandmother had been stalking through their home all day, clothing rustling around her and her silver mane almost sticking up like an afronted cats.

Míriel plucked boredly at the weft of her loom, punishment for running away during chore time to try and catch frogs instead and Rúmil leant against her side, humming under zir breath, carefully winding new thread onto new shuttles for Miriel to use when she needed a new colour.

There was a rattle and a humming of voices but neither paid much mind at first, thinking it was their parents but the discordant sharpness in their grandmother’s voice had both sitting up straight and stilling their work, pressing closer together as they waited for some sign of danger; a sign to flee or to fight.

Instead their grandmother strode through the partition, kicked away the protective cover of their hearth which was set into their floor, and with a negligent gesture rose the flames to a proper height, a branch or two kicked into the fire as well.

Their best kettle was procured, filled from the water bucket, and placed on the flames.

Then Rúmil saw the other two women at the door and gasped, eyes widening and Míriel’s head whipped around in the direction zhe was looking.

One was tall, magnificently tall, and her skin was the colour of the sky between the stars, and her eyes glowed white-blue so that just like that sky, she carried stars with her. Red were her fingers, the ink in her flesh travelling up her arms and her raven hair was tightly woven back with a circlet of copper holding it away from her face.

She was Tatyar, her clothing was their own. Her hair shawl was their own. She looked to them, raised an eyebrow that took them both a moment to realise the gesture. 

The second woman was far more exotic to them. Her hair was braided back with buckweat dyed thread, and tumbled then down her body with such bright, lurid intensity it almost held its own light. It was buttercups and marigold, sheened like bronze and rippling like a wave around her as she walked. Her jaw was cobalt, the line of her lips defining where the golden golden skin began upwards whilst the cobalt descended downwards in intertwining spirals.

Míriel’s fingers twitched, wanting to put the swirls into her weaving. But then the second woman looked at them and neither of them were sure if her amethyst gaze was despairing or angry as she looked from them to their grandmother and back again.

Rúmil and Míriel leaned in closer to one another, working themselves away from the second woman right back against their grandmother. 

Their grandmother looked to them, to the women, and back again. 

"Go find your parents," she banished them. Behind the women, their grandfather had appeared, gaze wary like he’d been spooked and that was enough to panic them. They left, flattening themselves to the wall rather than touch the two women near the doorway, then fled into the darkness between the trees.


End file.
